Time And Tide
by Oswin Reid
Summary: SLIGHT LISTENER/FLASHPOINT CROSSOVER IN THE BEGINNING Lujayn Holt was just your ordinary SciFi fan. She never expected to be thrown into DW via Vortex Manipulator. Follow her adventures with all 13 Doctors!
1. Chapter 1

Hello. Welcome to my dreamscape. I'm called Lujayn. Lujayn Holt. No, no, no, not Lou-jane. Lou-ain. C'mon, it's not that difficult. Lou-ain. There, see? That wasn't so bad, now was it? Yes, I know it's strange. No, I'm not changing my name! I like it. It suits me. Hm, sorry? What did you say?

Whaddaya mean, boring? Yes, well, I suppose so, when you put it that way. Mind you, I am asleep at the moment. Yes, yes, okay, I get it! Thank you. Now... Where am I from? Yeah, my accent's a bit weird. I was born in America. Yes, that's the U.S. I currently reside in Toronto. Yes, that's in Canada. No, we do not live in igloos. Yes, I'm sure. That's only up North. Can I move on now? Thank you.

Oh, yeah. The two shadowy figures are my best friends. The one on the right is Toby Logan, and the one on the left is Spike Scarlatti. No, I don't think they're hot. I think they're cute, and that anyone would be lucky to date either one of them. Me? Hell no. They're like my brothers. For all intents and purposes, they **are** my brothers. Toby's a paramedic who consults with the IIB. Spike works for the Police Strategic Response Unit. He's the bomb specialist. No, you can't jump either one of them. Why? It's my dream! Don't push your luck. What do I do? Oh, I work at the dispatch. I usually take the night shift. They switched my schedule around, so now I work mornings. Hey! It's not boring! I had to talk a woman through labour yesterday. The miracle of life. Yes, okay, I'm moving on, no need to shout!

As you can see, the desktop of my dreamscape fluctuates from time to time. At the moment, it's what I imagine Gallifrey looks like. The way the Tenth Doctor describes it to Martha. Towering trees with sparkling silver leaves, glowing in the golden light of the twin suns. The long crimson grass sways in the slight breeze, and the mountain peaks majestically glisten with freshly fallen snow. Beautiful, isn't it? It's the one I use most frequently. I guess because it's always so peaceful. Occasionally I come across the odd Dalek, or even a Weeping Angel, but they're more or less frozen. Kinda like my own personal timelock. Just images. Pictures. My other favorite is the War Doctor's desktop. It's a perfect combination of the Classic and the New Who TARDIS console rooms. That's just me though. Toby and Spike are more sports fans than science fiction. That's okay. They end up watching it with me anyways. I have my ways. How do I do it? I have a talent for evil when I have a need for it. I know their weaknesses. I can be diabolical when I have to be.

I was raised on Doctor Who and Star Trek, which explains why I'm... intrigued with it. No, I'm not obsessed! Technically... Anyways, so I guess you could say when they revived Doctor Who and made the new Star Trek movies, I basically died and went to Nerdvana. Oh, sorry! I forgot to mention when I am. Welcome, to 2015!

* * *

_Zztzztzztzztzzt SMACK!_ My palm connects with the alarm clock from hell, silencing it's infernal cries. I burrow back into my cocoon of blankets, unwilling to subject myself to the unforgiving harshness of the winter season. I could hear the buzz of the city, the rush of sounds sweeping me away into... wait a second... the city isn't this busy at 8 o'clock in the morning. My eyes snap open as I sit upright sharply, my hair falling into my face. I hurry to untangle myself, hitting the floor with an 'oomph!' I blow my rainbow colored hair out of my eyes as I feel around for my phone. I look up, spotting my alarm clock, the bright orange numbers mocking me. '11:15' My eyes widen, and I kick the now useless nest of blankets off of me. I pull on layers upon layers of clothes, stopping to check if I had gained yet another bruise. I winced as I saw the newly formed purple mark covering my back. _Great,_ I think sourly, _one more thing to add to my list of things gone wrong._ I grab my sleeveless fur coat and my keys, and bolt out the door only to run right into my semi-elderly neighbour, Mr Davidson. He lives in the apartment next to mine.

My head bounces off the floor and immediately starts to throb. Papers fluttered to the ground as I scramble off the floor, dashing for the staircase. I holler, "Sorry!" as I start sliding down the slick stairs. Mr Davidson laughs and calls out, "Late again, Lu?" I manage to make it down to the lobby without any further accidents. I rush past Mrs Allen and Ms Desceaux, the tenants of apartments 12A and 13F. I burst out the glass doors, heading towards the parking lot. Mrs Allen chuckled. "That Lujayn... always in such a rush." Ms Desceaux just laughed. "At least she's consistent."

I make my way over to my beat up '79 Pinto. I slide into the worn leather seat, and turn the key in the ignition. The engine turns over, and it dies."No, no, no, no, no, no, no!" I chant as I hit the dashboard. I fumble for my phone, checking the time. '11:45' "Shit," I swore, headache getting worse. I rest my head on the steering wheel, muttering, "This isn't my day." I climb out of now deceased war horse, only to remember the next bus downtown was in an hour. I groan, leaning against the scuffed and scratched brown paint. "Hey!" I ignore whoever it is, too momentarily depressed to care. "Lu!" I whirl around, about to tear whoever it is a new one, only to see Toby; my best friend. Well, one of them. He jogged up to me, looking slightly concerned. I personally have no idea why. It's definitely not because blood is currently dripping down my hand... wait, what?! How in the name of insanity did I miss that?! Yes, I can be oblivious, but I think I should've noticed a red river slowly making it's way down my palm.

As soon as he reached me, he grabbed my left hand, checking to see where I was bleeding from. "What did you do, hold your keys in a death grip?" he chastised me lightly, checking for any further damage. He looks over his shoulder to the ambulance, calling out to his partner. "Hey, Oz! Bring over some bandages, will you?" He glances up at me. "Want to tell me where the bruises came from?" he asked knowingly. I decided to look over at the apartment building, finding the brick patterns very interesting all of a sudden. "Don't be a smartass, Toby, it doesn't suit you," I grumble. Ozman Bey, Toby's partner, finally decides to join us. "Hey, Oz, where were you when the interrogation started?!" I cried out mock-indignantly. "Doing something important," he retorted. Toby, being the spoilsport that he is, decided to break up the fight before it even started. "Girls, you're both pretty," Toby said exasperatedly. "Lu, please stop abusing your car." I huff and cross my fingers. "I make no promises," I declare, sticking out my tongue like the 5 year old I am. Toby finishes wrapping my hand, stands up, and immediately becomes my knight in shining armour. "Do you need a lift to work, Lu?" he asks, elbowing Oz to cut off any verbal protests he made. I grin sheepishly at them both, rubbing the back of my head. "Please?"


	2. Chapter 2

I hop out of the ambulance, just as they get a call. "Thanks, guys!" I call out as they drive away. A wistful smile appears on my face as I watch them speed off. _I wish my job was a bit more exciting, _I mentally sigh. I suddenly remember that I'm extremely late, and I dash inside. I flash my I.D. at the security guard, Sebastian, and slide into the room, multicolored hair flying like a flag behind me. Everyone at their desk pauses and looks up, giving me a wary smile. I manage to squeak out, "Sorry I'm late." Calvin Webber, the shift supervisor, stormed out of his office, a smirk on his face. "Holt!" I eyed him warily, unsure if I wanted to answer. "Yes sir?" I managed, trying to keep my lip from curling in disgust. See, Calvin is a slimy little douche who had kept hitting on me. It got so bad I filed a sexual harassment complaint. This guy wouldn't take no for an answer. He's had it out for me ever since.

"I told you if you were late again, that you were out of a job." My jaw dropped to the floor. "Sir, that was months ago!" The smirk grew as I protested. Sadist. "The point still stands, Holt. Unless," he moved closer whispering in my ear, "you _persuade_ me." I stiffened, mentally groaning. _Great. Just what I need. Could this get any worse? _I could feel everyone's eyes on us, and I whispered back, "Not on your life... _Sir_." His face turned bright red as some of the workers who heard began to chuckle. I could hear his teeth grinding as he spit out, "Get your things and leave. Here is your paycheck for last week. You have ten minutes to get out before I call security." He stomped back to his office, steam rising from his ears. I felt a small grin crawl across my face. Finally. This idiot's been messing with me for _years_! He's changed my shift schedule over 15 times, uploaded viruses to my computer, (I have a hacker for a friend), and he even went as far as to 'forget' to pay me for overtime. That only happened a couple of times. You mess with my money, you've got hell to pay.

Nina, one of the senior dispatchers, smiled sympathetically. "Don't worry 'bout it, hon. Oh! Before I forget," she opened a drawer in her desk and pulled out a brown paper package. I thought I was the only one who did that. "This came for you, no return address, or note. I checked. Here you go." She held it out to me. I take it from her gently. I smile softly. "Thanks Nina." We hear from the office, "Seven minutes!" I roll my eyes, and stroll over to my desk. Like any security guard here would kick me out. Except Bernie. Bernie is a _monster_, I swear! He's like, 6 ft 5, and all muscle. Let's just say Bernie and I don't get along. Period.

I go through my drawers, grabbing my tennis ball, all fifteen different packages of gum, my lighter, ten candy canes, some travel size duct tape, an ultraviolet pen, a devil drive, space emergency blanket, envelope x-ray spray, credit card lock pick set, my bag of caffeinated popcorn, and a titanium escape ring. I shove everything in my pockets, except the ring. That I put on my finger. I turn around to find a red-faced Mr Webber right behind me. Before he can open his mouth, I salute him and Nina, and make for the door. On my way out, I drop off my I.D. with Sebastian, my favorite security guard. He looks at it warily, then glances up at me. "Were you fired?" I shrug. "Yeah... he finally got rid of me. Only took him 2 years." Sebastian frowns, eyes downcast. "Will you come visit?" he murmurs. I smile at him, ruffling the eighteen year old's hair. "Course, I will! I'll even make you the Famous Ultima Sandwich." He looks up, a boyish grin spreading across his face. "Promise?" he says hopefully. I nod. "Promise." His grin gets bigger. "Great!"

I spot a fuming Calvin stalking towards me out of the corner of my eye, Bernie behind him. Damn. I whisper, "I'll take you out to lunch on your birthday Friday, okay? That's only four days." Sebastian nods, then pushes me out the door. "Go!" he says urgently, "I don't want to get you into trouble." I raise an eyebrow, giving him a look. "That's my line!" I scold. Seb only rolls his eyes and makes a shooing motion. I chuckle and waltz out the door before Mr Webber can catch me. Yes, it's good to be King.

* * *

I look down at the brown paper package in my hand, curious to see what it held. I spot a bench further down the sidewalk. I jog up to it, and plop myself down. I study the little parcel intently. "Right then," I mutter, "let's see what you are." I unwrap it, only to find a note, and a blue box. i set the box down, and read the tiny little piece of paper. _**Time and tide wait for no one. So jump on**_**_ in._** I look for a signature, only to find the Seal of Rassilon on the lid of the box. I frown. _Why would someone use that? No one like Rassilon nowadays._ I carefully lift up the lid to the package, only to find a toy vortex manipulator and a silver TARDIS journal inside. I raise a hand to my mouth, touched. The journal was obviously custom made. Probably cost a small fortune. See, Lujayn means Silver, so for someone to get me this... it meant a lot. I put the journal into one of my many pockets, and decided to strap the manipulator onto my wrist. "Well," I sighed, standing up. "I need to cash that cheque in." And with that, I began my trek to the nearest TD.


End file.
